


Of heroin and hot fudge desserts

by cydisyaoitrash



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, love can do anything, may abandon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cydisyaoitrash/pseuds/cydisyaoitrash
Summary: Junjou Romanticas story if Misaki took to drugs to ease his pain after his parents death.Hopefully lots of fluff and angst in the future.





	Of heroin and hot fudge desserts

Misaki could swear he heard it. Heard his high, whispering a new past into his ear. A past he wasn't familiar with, but one he yearned for. One with less violence and sadness. Less of a story filled with wrongs, more one bland but coated in a thin layer of sugar. But that wasn’t possible. 

However, it was when his high painted this past in front of his dazed dilated pupils. Invisible colors taking shape of a warm home and a smiling mother, she would be orange, the color would flicker to blue, grinning father, he would sizzle away into a beautiful girlfriend with big eyes. 

Misaki didn’t like her very much. So she disappeared.

The whole room was buzzing, living. Telling a story. It was worlds away from the outside, and his brother in the kitchen, or his plummeting grades at school. This room was a museum of ‘could-have-been’. 

He called it the hum of heroine. A Symphony of colors and nostalgia, past tragedies turned into memories kissed into Misaki’s brain. He enjoyed it. 

Until he did not. Until red was the only color swimming in front of him, covering him. Until his once colorful-could-have-been mother began to scream about the breaks which he could not see. Until he heard his brother crying beside him, despite him being alone. 

He did not like it when the world of sweet ‘could-have-beens’ turned into ‘what is’.

Hell. 

So he slept. 

 

When he woke up, the birds sung. The room was dead. Heaven was once again non-existent. 

The belt was still fastened around his thin pale arm, he made sure to take it off and hide the syringe that held the life he yearned for. 

He cursed as he remembered he forgot to dry his hair after his shower last night. He ran his finger through his thick hair, which seemed to thinning by the minute nowadays, he hissed as they jolted to a stop, halted by a harsh tangle in his chocolate locks. He decided to just leave it. 

Misaki pulled his uniform over his thin body, he stared at himself in the mirror. Miserable. He shouldn’t have gotten so high so late. He threw a hoodie on, and headed out to the kitchen. The smell of sausage nauseated him. He loved his brother dearly but his cooking could he quite bland, even more so when he ate it everyday. 

Takahiro was standing at the stove his arm moving back and forth over a hissing pan, Misaki could see him perk up, he turned around, a bright smile on his face, “Good Morning Mi...saki.” His smile fell. 

Misaki awkwardly stood in the middle of the kitchen, He swayed back and forth and swallowed thickly. He knew his brother was disappointed, he looked like hell for about the 15th morning in a row. 

And yes he’s counted every sorrow filled dip in his brothers face for the past 15 days. 

Misaki finally spoke, “I-I’m sorry Nii-chan...I just...I don't feel good today.” 

Takahiro looked him up and down with a sad face, “Again?” He asked quietly. 

Misaki cleared his throat, “Yeah.”

Takahiro sighed, “You’re not hungry again, are you?” 

“I’m not.” 

Takahiro nodded and sighed, he was silent for a long time. “Do you need to tell me something?” 

Misaki flinched, the words pressed heavy unto him. “No,” he whispered. Takahiro stared at him. 

“Okay,” he finally said, Misaki felt the weight of guilt and fear lessen and he quickly tried to leave. 

“Misaki,” Takahiro began, “Do you know my best friend? Usami Akihiko?” 

“Y-yes…” Misaki said, quite confused. 

“He’s coming over tonight. We are going to talk about...a tutoring arrangement.” Takahiro said with sad eyes, stressed eyes.

“Tutoring arrangement?” He repeated. 

“Misaki, you are an intelligent boy. It just needs to be brought out of you.” 

Misaki sat there, wanting to scream at his brother for spending so much time on him, a lost cause. “It won't work.” 

“Don't say that Misaki! You’re very smart.” Takahiro frowned, raising the pitch of his voice. 

Misaki smiled sadly and gave a simple nod, “I have to go, see you and… I suppose Usami-San tonight.” 

They said their farewells, Misaki grabbed his large wad of cash off the counter. He had to hurry to meet Katashi if he wanted to get his fixings this week. Misaki jogged down the sidewalk, before his stomach began to cramp up, he hissed and wheezed as he slowed to a walking pace, averting eye contact with concerned pedestrians. He knew his body was crumbling, he could also see his gums darkening in the mirror, nothing too drastic, but notable upclose. Who knows how many more times he can shoot, snort, or even smoke himself out of reality before he ends up dieing. Would that be so bad?

No. 

What was he saying?

‘How selfish can I be? Nii-Chan would be all alone.’ He scolded himself as he watched the Cracks and pebbles on the cement pass under his tattered sneakers. 

He would make an effort to stop. Soon. Just not this week. Or next week. This will be his last fixing. Or maybe not. He couldn’t just suddenly decided to stop. He had to plan in advance, next fixing would be his last. Maybe he’ll keep smoking pot. Crack isn’t too bad, right? 

Misaki shook his head, he didn’t want to be a nuisance, but letting go of heroin was going to be much too hard. He started it only four months ago, but he was hooked. He never knew the world that hid within it. It was like paint, you could create whatever you wanted and it would come to life. At least for a little bit. It would a your reality. But he would do anything for his brother. No matter how hard it was. 

“Hey kid, coming back for more?” Katashi smiled at him leaning against his car. They were at a convenience stores parking lot, it was quite empty in the morning. 

“Hi Katashi-San, yes, I am.” Misaki said softly, Katashi looked him up and down and sighed. 

“You’re my youngest customer, it’s kinda fucked up I give you this shit. I’m no hypocrite though.” He shrugged, “What's the order today kid?”

“A stamp and a half and 5 grams of the usual please.” He whispered in shame. 

Katashi cleared his throat awkwardly, “You’re not doing this to look cool right? You uh...you sure you want this kid?” 

“Yes!” Misaki interrupted, “Yes I’m...I’m quitting in a few weeks.” 

Katashi scoffed, opened his trunk and handed Misaki his order while Misaki pulled out his cash. Katashi quickly flipped through the dollars before nodding, “You won’t.” He said as he glanced around the parking lot and got into his car, “get to school now kid!” He called as he left a confused Misaki in the dust. 

This wasn’t him. He was sure of it. This want who Misaki was. This was just a bump in the road. He could quit, he’s been through harder things in life. Misaki tried to soothe himself as he walked to school, his backpack containing what may ruin his life. He was scared, so very scared. He was meek and shy and dumb and this just wasn’t him. 

Or was it? 

Misaki spent the school day dozing off, not learning a thing. Some teachers got mad at him and he would apologize profusely, he truly was sorry. However everyone knew nothing would change the next day. Out of all the classes he had, the only one he liked was his cooking class. Then he was wide awake and alert, his mind flowing with yummy ideas. These last few months, he’s stopped cooking as much. 

Walking home, he was actually starving, the money Takahiro gives him to spend on lunches and after school snacks he uses for much more selfish things. Misaki knew he was wasting Takahiros money, and he knew if Takahiro knew he would be so hurt. Their financial situation was bad enough without a drug addicted, stupid kid brother. 

Misaki sighed, remembering Usami-San would be over tonight. Apparently he is some big deal author, Misaki even heard his name on the news once, but he never read one of his books. He wasn’t one to judge, but he knew they were probably boring, at least they would be to him. 

As he approached his small house, he could hear laughter coming through the open window, he wondered how people could be so care free, especially someone like his brother, who had suffered so much. 

He walked up the patio, already exhausted and truly not feeling up to a visitor, he unlocked the door. 

“I’m ho-“ Misaki froze. 

There was Usami Akihiko, famed writer, holding his brother close, lips resting on Takahiros neck. The man glared at Misaki. 

Takahiro smiled, “Ah! Misaki! This is your new Tutor, Usami Akihiko!”

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my google Docs, I don’t like this fanfic per se however I feel like I can finagle something interesting out of it. I may abandon this fic so leave a review if you like it. However, I am very interested in my pills have been deemed useless right now, I am super excited to write those beautiful Hiroki/ Nowaki and Misaki/ Usagi moments! Either way this was just kinda a pilot! See ya!


End file.
